Goddess of the Sand
by sakume
Summary: Marikir, a former thief, awakens in the life of a slave when he is captured by a race of desert women known as Gerodu. When someone catches his eye, will he find out the secrets of their race? Or will he be swallowed into something bigger?OCxOC
1. The Oasis and the Sandstorm

_A very strange take on the Legend of Zelda series, but one that will be very interesting all the same if I can pull it off. Contrary to the title, this has nothing to do with Nabooru. The big kicker is at the very end of this chapter, to tell what it's about._

Goddess of the Sand

Chapter 1

(The Oasis and the Sandstorm)

The whirling mass of grainy sand stung his skin, digging into him, even under him, or so it seemed. It was hard to tell how anything felt with all his senses so muddled together. How did he get himself into this? It seemed so long ago, but it was only an hour or two. He peered out from behind his scarf, desperately trying to pinpoint anything at all. He had searched for what they had said; he had tried to find the phantom guide. This was a ghost, one who supposedly led those who asked for help through the hazardous desert. He had not seen heads or tails of the thing. The hollow echoing of the wind roared over his coughing, struggled gasps. It was difficult to breathe with all the dirt he was inhaling. He shielded his face with an arm, blindly staggering through the desert as his footsteps sank into the sucking sand.

So…so this was it. This was how he was going to die. Beaten to death by sand, alone and buried in the desert. Would he even be remembered? As the provocative, brooding thoughts swirled in his head, he collapsed to his knees, falling face first. Soon, his whole world fell into the darkness of unconsciousness.

Pain…he awoke to a throbbing sensation in his head, and his trembling hand reached up to touch his neck. It was sticky and thick, crusted over with dry blood. His dusty, bruised hands were tied together with rough, bound rope which was knotted a few times. He coughed loudly, arousing a fresh cloud of dust to breathe in. Forcing his weak body to move, he sat up to take in his surroundings. Suddenly, a sharpened point of a scimitar pressed against the flesh of his neck.

"Don't move, or I swear I'll slice you in half."

"Who are you?" he chocked out, trying blindly to catch his bearings. Layers of dust speckled his eyelashes, irritating his eyes and causing them to water.

"Who I am is none of your concern." The captor bent down on one knee and lifted his chin for a moment, just so he could get a blurred look at his fate. "Welcome to your nightmare…" With that, the bound man felt a sharp pain in his head again, and for the second time blacked out, unable to stay conscious any longer.

……………………………………………………………………………………

"Where…where am I?" he asked, as he felt a sweet wet sensation on his neck. He was lying on his stomach, and his entire body was chained to the table to make him completely immobile.

"You are in the Gerudo's Fortress." The voice answered plainly, pressing the wet rag to his neck again.

He winced and sucked in a sudden breath, tensing and then relaxing. "What do you want with me?"

"That is simple. You are to be a slave to Shilah, the queen of our tribe. We do not permit most men to live, but she seemed interested in you. You should be thankful."

"I will not stay. I will find a way to run. I am a slave to no one." He struggled in vain, rattling his chains as they stretched to their limit.

"Watch your tongue. You would be tortured beyond what most men are capable of surviving. Do as you are bid, and you shall live. It will not be difficult."

"Why are you soothing my wounds?" he asked, as he felt the sting of his cuts ease into a cool moist sensation.

"The queen does not like dirty slaves. You are to be shaven and taught the ways of the Gerudo. That is my job."

"And who are you?" he asked, craning his neck to catch even a glimpse.

With a sudden jerk, he was pulled upwards, and flipped to his back. "It is not your business to ask who I am." He finally saw her clearly…it was a young woman, probably about his age. Her long, straight hair was pulled back into a ponytail, held in place by a jeweled clip. Her tan midriff clearly showed; her billowy pants and tight top were decorated with intricate zig-zag patterns. She leaned into his face, and began to shave his scruffy chin, staring at him as well. Her delicate lips held a white lipstick, and her amber eyes were shadowed with an equally white layer of make-up.

The man's face she stared into had un-kept hair, as tangled as a brush. It was a blazing red, as flaring as a wildfire. His own orbs were a deep brown, almost swallowing her in his gaze. He had a definite fit figure, but it was banged up, as if he had been treated harshly. He wore a sort of desert clothing that spoke of one just entering for the first time, a crimson scarf and brownish clothes. Numerous holes were worn into his pants and shirt, showing his own dark skin, though it was not dark enough to protect him from the desert sun.

"Am I finished yet?" he asked quietly as she rinsed his chin. It was embarrassing to have a woman take care of his hygiene and refuse to stop.

"Not quite…but the next thing…it's a little painful." She sounded as if she regretted doing it.

"What is it?" he asked, gritting his teeth as he thought of what it could be.

"Slaves are branded. On their backs…" He heard a sizzling sound and saw a heated iron out of the corner of his eye. "That way you get returned if you try to run…"

"Please…don't. I'm not good with pain. I'll do anything else…anything."

"Oh…" She glanced towards the door for a moment, and drummed her fingers on the table. "Bend your head sideways…"

The man did as he was told, though he was still really nervous. "Please don't press too hard then."

It took only a moment, and the woman spoke again. "Take a deep breath and hold it…now."

A stinging sensation made its way through his ear. "Ow!" he exclaimed, struggling to hold it and ease the pain. "What was that?"

"There. Now you're not branded, but you're considered one of us…" She walked over to him, and unclicked the part of the chains holding him to the wall. He could now sit up and walk, but was burdened by a chain across his ankles and another binding his wrists.

He sat up, and reached a hand back to feel where it was sore. His fingers enclosed around a small steel round object. "You…you pierced my ear."

"It's better than being branded. Besides, it makes you look more handsome anyway," the Gerudo stated as she readied the brander for its next victim. "In a few minutes, you are to appear before the queen for the first time. Here's my advice: Be a dog. Serve her on your hands and knees. Whatever you do, don't speak unless you're spoken to, and don't try to run." She left the room for just a second, and returned with a golden tray. She handed it to him, and surveyed him for a moment. "Hold on." She closed in, unsheathed her scimitar, and with a swift motion, cut off his shirt, revealing his bare chest. "There…" She placed a few fruits and assorted delectable foods on the tray and nodded. The man thankfully looked at her, and reached for a grape. He received a stern smack on the hand. "It's not for you, stupid. It's for the queen."

"Oh…" He rubbed his hand. "Sorry."

She sighed, and gave him an annoyed look. "Just don't do anything like that in the royal court." She pushed him out the door, following behind. "Take a left at the first doorway, and a right after that. Good luck."

The man wasn't so anxious to do this. He took a few moments to compose himself. What was the use of that? He was a slave now…it wouldn't matter anyway. He followed the woman's directions, and silently stepped through the doorway.

The royal court was definitely ablaze with color. Women were everywhere; he couldn't find one man…not one. All activity froze as he entered, and he was scrutinized harshly. There were three figures in the middle of the room, all behind a veil-like structure. As the veil parted, he could see they were also women. It looked as if they were seated according to their status. The lowest one glared at him, her golden eyes spitting venom. Her lips were parted in a scowl, and her green eye shadow was thoroughly caked on to accentuate her expressive eyes.

The woman seated just above her seemed to be nervous. She hid herself so he couldn't get a good look at her, and kept her head bowed towards the ground. Her hands remained on her knees as she sat cross-legged.

He assumed the highest was the queen. He froze in hesitancy. The woman wore rich garments of silk and satin, veiling almost her whole body from sight. Rising off her throne, she threw the cloth off, revealing her body like all the others. Her lips were a jet black, clearly distinguishing her from all the others at a glance. "You there! Slave! Come here!" she ordered, tapping a staff she held once against the floor.

It took a moment for the command to reach his head. He hadn't realized that she was talking to him, until the awkward silence told him so. He rushed forward, through being sure not to trip over his chains. He bent down on one knee, and held the tray up, not daring to look up into her face.

"You dare not to look into the face of your queen? Very good…" Her hands enclosed around the tray and she picked it up, setting it down to the side. "Come closer, let me look at you."

Not daring to disobey, he obliged. "I'm sorry if…if I'm not what you…" He remembered that he was not supposed to speak, and clapped his mouth shut.

"Insolent creature!" the lowest of the three stood to her feet, and gave him a sharp kick in the ribs. "How dare you speak to royalty without being commanded!"

To the man's surprise, the queen pushed the woman back down roughly. "Control yourself, Titani," she hissed angrily. "I should be able to do as I wish…without you interrupting me." Again she faced the man. "You are a handsome one. I'm glad I kept you with me. Go to your quarters. I will call you again, when I get bored."

With a nod, he quickly took his leave, unsure of where to go. "Hold on!" He turned to see a veiled woman approach him. It took him a moment to realize that this was the middle one. "I'm sorry…about Titani. She's the queen's advisor. She hates all men. I just wanted to tell you. Your quarters are the bottom floor, last room. Stay there until you are summoned…I'm sorry."

Before he could say anything, she threw something on the ground, and a bright flash filled the air. When he looked up, she was gone. "Wow…" he marveled. "I've got to learn how to do that." He followed her directions and ended up inside his own quarters. He may have been a slave, but he had a keen sense of direction. It was darker inside than most would have suspected. Though the sun was brightly beaming down outside, the inside of the cramped room was murky and dark. Well, he would fix that. It took a moment, but he succeeded in ripping off the cover for the window and spilling the rays of the sun into the dark room. It was an absolute mess. A few rats scurried back to their holes at the sun's intrusion, squeaking angrily. Broken pottery held the remains of some rotting flowers, and a moth eaten bed sagged in the corner.

He wrinkled his nose thoughtfully. Tossing his cloak over the bed, he fell back onto it, and with a sudden thump, the mattress collapsed onto the ground. "Brilliant," he sighed. Partly because he was suddenly a slave to a group of desert women, and partly because he was stuck and couldn't seem to get up, he began to chuckle. Soon that chuckle exploded into a laugh as his natural sense of optimism took over. It had been an alright day. Sure, he was a slave until death to a race of killers, but hey, he got a free place to stay. Altogether, it was a rather sweet deal. He liked to look on the bright side of things.

"Hey…"

He whirled around to see the girl who took care of him earlier. "You did great," she said simply.

"How do you know?" he asked, trying to look as natural as possible while he was caught in the mattress's clutches.

"Because…because I watched from the sidelines." She stammered quickly.

"No you didn't." He raised a hand and waved it carelessly. "I would've seen you. I was looking."

"You were looking for me?" she asked, starting to sit in shock. When she noticed the termites crawling throughout the wood of the chair, she quickly changed her mind. "Really?"

"Yup." He nodded, smiling. "You may be strange, but you're the only friend I have here. Could you help me out? This mattress is killing me."

Suddenly, the girl laughed. It was a beautiful, joyous sound. She reached a hand out and helped pull him out. "You consider me your friend?"

"Well, sure." His hand reached up to feel his pierced ear. "You saved me from the branding; you helped me find my way around here."

"Oh…" Her tan complexion flushed. "It was nothing…just forget that."

"But why did you come here in the first place?" he asked curiously, stretching his limbs.

"I came to say you did well. Also…I'm sorry for the way you're treated here. I…" She looked around, as if worried someone was watching. She leaned close to him and whispered. "I don't believe men are inferior. That would be considered treason here."

The man raised an eyebrow, and bent back in to her ear. "Why are we whispering? We're in a closed room…no one can hear us."

The woman slowly shook her head. "You have a lot to learn. Our race specializes in secrets, spying."

"Hold on. Before you go…" The man reached out, and touched her shoulder lightly. She turned to face him, her eyes unblinking, but a smile on her face.

"Yes?"

"What's your name?" he asked, tilting his head with a genuine smile as well.

"My name?" she repeated, looking startled. She flushed again, and shuffled her feet, aimlessly kicking at some rocks in the dirt floor. "I'm Mirami, the Gerodu."

"Mirami…" He nodded as he looked towards the ceiling. "It suits you."

"And what about you?" Curiosity encircled Mirami like a python, pressuring her to know as much as possible.

"Me?" He winked at her, opening his door for her as she slowly exited. "Your queen affixed me with the name 'Dorf' or 'weakling'…"

"Not that name. Your other name…your real name." Mirami tilted her head towards him as she stepped outside.

He chuckled to himself. "Boy, you don't give up, do you? Alright, alright…Dragmire. Marikir Dragmire, the Hylian. Most of the people I know just call me…Mark."

_Catch that? If you didn't, you'll have to wait until the end of the book to find it out. Hope you enjoyed it…_


	2. The Killer

_I hope you liked it. I've never seen this done before, so I thought it would be nice. We'll get more into deeper detail a little bit later. _

Chapter 2

(The Killer)

Despite having never lived in the barren desert surroundings before, Marikir certainly learned fast. In exchange for his servitude, the Gerudos had agreed to show him all they knew. The secrets of their trade were at his disposal. The first few days were especially rough to him, because of Titani's constant anger and belittlement. He learned quickly never to get in her way, and to stay around the queen, who seemed to favor him. Why she favored him, he did not know. She always said he was going to help her to rule all the land…A few weeks passed, and Marikir became a Gerudo himself. Becoming a thief was easy for him as he had already had a lot of practice. It was his former occupation, after all.

Soon, he earned reasonable respect. He met Mirami every few days, sometimes popping in when she didn't expect him. There was one day when he found her that she had been especially angry. She was in a restricted room, one reserved for the guardians of the Spirit Temple. As he made his dramatic entry, she gasped, hiding all she was looking at and quickly using a deku nut to disappear. He followed, but she had never told him what it was she was looking at.

He had learned over the past week who the figures were behind the veiled curtain. The tallest was, in fact, the queen. She was his mistress, the one whom he had to obey, or face the consequences. The lowest he already knew as Titani, the queen's advisor. She was rather mean, and for some reason she seemed to hate him. The middle one he was told was the princess. This puzzled him, and he wished he could figure out why he had never seen her.

In a few days, an annual battle tournament would be held. The winner received a gift from the princess herself. Marikir was very excited about this. He had secretly been training in his spare time, and he was confident that he could win if given the chance. Anyone could enter, so it wasn't a problem that he was a slave. The only problem was the Gerudo's attack patterns. The women had a special attack…one that he couldn't figure out. If anyone was hit by this attack, he or she wouldn't be able to recover, but would instantly fall.

Marikir had desperately tried to figure out how this attack was accomplished, but no matter how hard he tried, his goal just seemed further and further away. The women did have a tattletale sign that gave away when they were about to execute this attack. They would bend down and hold their energy for a moment before unleashing it with a jump. The women all used the same forms of attack, and most of them used the same weapon too. It was a sharpened scimitar. It was curved, and would cut into you like a knife through butter. Marikir knew, because he had been nicked with it more than once.

He began to forge his own weapon, a large sword. It was turning out to be so big he was afraid he wouldn't be able to use it. He knew if Titani caught him forging it, she would consider it treason against the crown, so he hid it where he knew no one would dare to look. Inside his own quarters, where the dust was so thick it could choke you, and lice crawled on the sparse furnishings. No one ventured to set foot inside, except for him, of course. Therefore, it was the perfect place to keep his sword hidden.

He ran a finger across the blade, and winced as he drew back. A few drops of blood ran down his hand, dripping onto the floor. Well, at least he knew it worked. It may have been extremely heavy and hard to carry, but it certainly looked menacing enough. He chuckled at the thought of his name. Dorf… What a funny thought. His mind wandered further to ponder what was to become of him. He began to think back onto his family, a flashback entered his mind.

_"You're hard enough on him, Kinsu...please give him a rest." Marikir wiped a bit of sweat off his brow. The desert sun was nearly unbearable to such a young unprotected child. _

_"Mira..." The man stepped forward, clutching his son's shoulder and speaking with a thick Hylian accent. "He has to learn to fend for himself. What with the rumors about the war."_

_"Hush!" The woman cast her husband a dark forboding glance. "Our son should not hear such things." She was indeed beautiful, in fact, Mark considered his mother to be quite the vision. Her long shimmering hair was frazzled from the heat, but her soft gentle eyes gave him all the comfort he needed. "There will be no war. The king will not allow it. You know that."_

_The man was strong, and rugged. His features were harsh, and albeit unfeeling. Beneath his own dark orbs, a faint sense of kindess could be felt only through specific moments. Marikir looked to his father as if he were an original creator of Hyrule. He gave his wife a quick glance, and his gaze became tranquil. "You're right, Mira. There shall be no war. I will never be torn apart from you..." _

_As Mark would soon see, there was indeed a war. A small fight, but a battle just the same. His father had died soon after that, protecting their part of Hyrule, even to giving his life. He had promised that he would fight for the desert race, the Gerudo...and so he did, even to the death. Soon after this, his mother caught a sickness, something no doctor had ever seen before. She also passed away with the rise of winter. Mark could still see the man's face...he had seen his father die, and remembered who it was that stabbed him through the heart. The blonde boy...a young knight, a warrior for Hyrule. His sapphire eyes burned with a sense of justice that Mark had never seen, except in his own father's. They had fought for a long time, and Mark watched fearfully from a distance...this knight...something about him...he couldn't have been more than sixteen. They must have drafted him...and that's why Kinsu held back. That was why he died. _

"Marikir…" The flap of cloth that served as a door to his room flew open as Mirami stepped inside. "How could you do this?"

"Do what?" he asked, cocking his head. He couldn't understand why she sounded so upset, and was still letting his memories take refuge in the back of his mind for later.

"Do this…you signed up for the tournament. You can't win! You don't know how to fight, much less how to fight us…"

"I've been studying." He began to clean his sword, polishing it to a sparkling sheen with a cloth. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing." He smiled at her, and willingly showed her his weapon.

"Where on earth did you get that? It's beautiful!" Mirami exclaimed, taking a step closer.

"I've had this for a while. I made it myself last month." He blinked, and bit his lip in thought. "I know I can win."

"Why do you want to win, anyway?" Mirami asked.

"If I win, I can find out who the princess is. She has to reward me. Therefore, I intend to win. Her mystery intrigues me. I must know who she is."

"Is that all? Curiosity?" she asked. "Just…out of my curiosity, does your weapon have any weaknesses?" She turned away from him and stared at the ceiling.

"Weaknesses? No. Although, it is quite heavy. I lose my footing easily when I wield it."

"Really?" Mirami turned and gave him a shy smile. "Then…well, don't get your hopes up to win, okay? But…I…I hope you get past the first round." She blinked, her heart pounding inside her. Quickly leaning forward, she lightly kissed him on the cheek. "Good luck." She blushed and took her leave.

Marikir was unsure of what had just happened. It took him a moment to realize what Mirami had done. He held a hand to his cheek and slung his sword over his broad shoulder. He wouldn't have entered the tournament if it had taken place when he first arrived. All the hard work, the hours of slaving in the hot sun, sweating blood and crying salty tears, had given him strength. Not just physical strength, either. It was given him strength of heart and resolve…

Later that day, he took his place in line with the other competitors, an emotionless stare plastered onto his face. He was in a line of about twenty or so competitors, including Titani, who happened to be right beside him.

"What's the matter, are you scared? You never should have entered this contest in the first place," she hissed.

"I will fight you eventually." Marikir crossed his arms, and kept a steady temper as he stared at the referee, who was preparing to give directions. "And when I do…" He turned his head towards her and slit his eyes together. "I won't lose."

Titani searched her mind for a comeback, but could not find one. "We shall see." She turned back to her original position, and unsheathed her scimitar as she readied for the preliminary rounds. "Oh yes…we shall see."

The referee signaled for full attention. "Alright. This is how the battles are to take place. There will be a preliminary round, a first round, followed by a second, and finally, the third. There will be one winner and one winner only. There will be no foul play. These are to be good, clean matches. Weapons are allowed, of any kind." She signaled for the start. "All of you who are wearing a white piece of cloth, head to those rings. You are the preliminary match fighters. Only one of you will emerge victorious."

Sadly, Marikir was wearing a piece of white cloth, "shouting" for all to hear that he was a so-called novice. He took his place, versus another white-clothed woman, who revealed her face and readied the weapon of choice for the women…a scimitar. "I won't back down," Marikir warned her. He was surprised to see her, though. She couldn't have been more than sixteen. A teenager, and she was already fighting?

"Neither will I." She brandished her weapon, readying for the clang of the gong that would signal them to begin. Her eyes gave away her nervous nature though, for they continued to flit up towards his sword and back to him. "If you beat me, you go to the first round and wear an orange mark…I cannot have that. If you earn that honor, you are allowed to become a guard in the fortress. I have been training since I was five for that opportunity, and I won't let someone like you…"

Her speech was interrupted mid-sentence by a sudden yelp as she was flipped over by Marikir's sword. He bent over her, pinning her down with the massive weight of the weapon. "You talk too much."

The girl gasped, and began to struggle as the gong reverberated through the air. Her tiny form slipped under Marikir's knees like a snake. "Do I?" She bent down, and began to store her energy for the trademark attack. A small crowd began to gather, and the spectators laughed at the man.

Marikir turned around, and spotted something he could use to his advantage…if he could only time it right. He noticed her hood lying on the ground, and figured the statistics. In exchange, he quickly found himself with a headache. He shrugged his shoulders and dropped his sword, waiting for the girl's battle cry.

He didn't have to wait long. With a leap, the girl flew into the air, coming straight down, her scimitar pointed at him. Marikir ran, and leaped into the air, landing on her hood. He slid as he had planned, the slick sand giving him an edge. As his momentum slowed, he jumped off, rolling to the side a few times before the girl came down, within inches of his feet.

She jerked her head upwards and laughed, beginning to rise. "You're too close, you fool! You played right into my hands!" She was pulled back midway. "Huh?" She tried to stand again, and a second time was pulled back. "Wha! No!" Her sword had sunken into the thick sand and was now too deep to pull out with her strength. "No! No! No!"

The referee stepped into the large ring, and headed for Marikir, giving him an orange piece of cloth. "The winner is…Dorf!" Catcalls and boos surrounded him, but he didn't mind. He glanced towards the royal spectators, and caught a glimpse of the princess. She waved a handkerchief in the air towards him, and then placed her hands in her lap. The referee directed him towards the side to wait for the other competitors. "Prepare for round two, we'll begin as soon as the others finish!"

Marikir was a bit surprised. He never expected to fight again so soon after the preliminary rounds. After a few minutes, he was in the first round. Hah. He told Titani he could. Mirami believed he would. He couldn't let her down. With a smile, he readied his sword. The woman that faced him in the first round was much older, perhaps the queen's age. She had a unique weapon, a circle hoop with blades surrounding it. She intricately began to weave it back and forth, and charged towards him the instant the gong rang.

Marikir did a quick back flip, bending his back towards the audience as the razor-sharp blades passed his chin. "Whoo…" He slid through her legs. "That was too close for comfort."

The woman spun the bladed circle, and heaved it with all her strength towards him. "Take that!"

Marikir ducked, and began to laugh. "You missed me!"

The woman smiled slyly, and Marikir soon figured out why. As he straightened, the returning weapon sliced into his arm, cleanly cutting through his skin. "Argh!" he stifled a cry of pain, and instinctively clutched the wound. The weapon returned to the woman's side.

"Like my boomerang?" she asked in a cocky voice.

Marikir lifted his sword over his head and began to rush her. Rage had filled him fully, replacing all thoughts of logic and reasoning. Like a wildfire, he was an inferno of strikes and parries. Lifting his sword again over his head, he threw it down, the loud clang of the weapons clashing echoed throughout the desert. Sweat began to trickle down his forehead, stinging his eyes and blurring his vision. Though he was extremely tired, he had decided he had to win. He pushed with all his strength; she tried to counter his strike. He was too strong for her to block, and she faltered, as her weapon was knocked out of her hand. In a flash, Marikir readied his sword at her neck. "I win."

This time, the applause was a bit greater; he even received a few cheers. Smiling, he turned towards the referee.

"There will be a few minutes for you to prepare…" She presented him with a red piece of cloth. "Be back here in about five, alright?"

"Alright." Marikir smiled, and pinned the red cloth on his chest. He immediately set off for his house, bandaging his shoulder where it had been sliced open, and waiting for Mirami to congratulate him. He had made it past the first two rounds after all.

To his complete surprise, Mirami did not come. He waited longer than he should have for her, knowing for certain that she would come eventually…wouldn't she? He waited impatiently…but she did not come. Sure, he was depressed, at least a few moments, but he reasoned that something must have come up. Either way, he returned to the fighting ring, only to spot the challenger already waiting for him.

This was the biggest amazement of all. The challenger was only a young girl, of ten or perhaps twelve years of age. She blinked her large eyes towards him, looking up until she reached his eye contact. "Are you going to fight me?"

Marikir couldn't think of what to say. "I…suppose so. You're a red rank?" he asked, hoping that there had been some sort of mistake.

"Yup! I'm the highest ranking of the reds." The girl proudly crossed her arms, and revealed her weapon. It was a very slender bow and arrow set. "Good luck!" She readied an arrow to the bow with a smile.

Marikir was so stunned by her attitude that he did not know what to say. "Right…good luck to you too."

The loud bong of the gong sounded, and an arrow whizzed past Marikir's ear. This was quickly followed by another that penetrated his cloak. "Wha…" He dodged yet another, trying to remember all he had trained with. His mind wandered to Mirami as he tried to defend against the onslaught of arrows. "Where is she?" he wondered. "Surely she's in the crowd." His eyes scanned the large groups of onlookers. He…couldn't see her. What on earth? He tried to relax his muscles, but he couldn't help but be distracted.

"Got it!" the girl chirped, chuckling as she threaded another arrow to her bow, letting it go with a twang.

Marikir stood, paralyzed for a split second. That split second was his downfall. With a powerful thwock, the arrow struck his shoulder, the feathered tip barely visible. Pain shocked him out of his paralyzed state, and he jolted upwards, His hand flew to cover the wound, where blood had already begun to leak out of his tight fingers. Quickly assessing the damage, he determined it was just a flesh wound, and not mortally dangerous, albeit painful. The crowd gasped, and silence reigned like an ominous rain cloud hovering over a picnic.

"Hah! Bulls-eye!" the girl exclaimed, clapping her hands in joy.

Marikir managed a struggled smile. "You got me, alright. You have one problem, though."

"Huh? What?" the girl questioned, a quizzical look on her face.

"You may…" He groaned and winced as he stood. "You may have got me….but you didn't annihilate me. You're out of ammo."

The girl blinked in blatant bewilderment. "Wha?" She reached back, but she couldn't grab anything, her hands connected with thin air. Her eyes widened in panic, but she contained herself. "I'll fight you with my hands then."

Marikir tilted his head in mild amusement. "Okay then…" He gritted his teeth and hoisted his sword over his shoulders with an effort. "Come on…"

The little girl may have been young, but she was not stupid. She made a final check to see that she had run out of arrows, and when she was positive she had, she fell to her knees before him. "Well done. You have beaten me. I submit. I hereby forfeit the match to you."

The referee cheered with the crowd as a few scarves flew into the air. "Dorf is the winner!" The queen stood up and nodded, pleased with the outcome. "Dorf!" the referee stated as she pinned a black piece of cloth on his chest. "You are now a rank of the queen's guard…one of the highest available…"

Marikir was happy, but something was bothering him. Mirami still had not revealed herself…where could she be? Secondly, all the battles had seemed…just a bit too easy. Like they had been all set up, and the outcome planned. He sighed softly, but continued to keep a determined outlook… He broke off the arrow and gently wiggled it out of the wound, and tied the piece of cloth he had just been given tightly around his shoulder. Testing it gingerly, he frowned, knowing he would have to be careful. His shoulder was already beginning to stiffen, and he would not have full range of movement in the next match. Thankfully, though, the blood loss had been minimal, and would not weaken him greatly.

The final round was in a huge ring, allowing for much more movement. As he entered solemnly, he grimaced at his opponent…he should have known.

"You?" Titani glowered at him, and crossed her arms. "I refuse to fight you. You're an inferior man, for heaven's sake!" she hissed.

"What, afraid you might lose?" Marikir asked tauntingly, brandishing his sword. He noticed Titani giving a second glance towards the princess as the two exchanged looks. "Don't worry; I'll make this as painless as possible."

The gong sounded, so loud and so foreboding that it took each of them a moment to react. Titani was the first to attack, whirling her two blades in such quick succession that it was hard to distinguish whether it was just the wind or the actual blade. Marikir fought back with his blade, but it was no use. He couldn't find an open spot to attack. He faced her, and swung his sword back for a quick strike.

Titani smirked, and ducked down low, sweep kicking Marikir and chuckling evilly. "Have a nice trip!"

"Wha…" He fell back, landing with a thud on the sand. "How!" He let go of his sword, and faced her as she cornered him and pinned him with her twin swords. "How did you know my weakness?"

Titani laughed, and threw a bit of sand into his face, blinding him. "Oh, a little birdie told me."

"A little birdie? What do you mean? Who told you?" he demanded, the gritty sand burning his eyes. "You're cheating! Throwing sand is bad form!"

Titani smirked. "Obviously, I don't care!" Her gaze shifted to the onlookers, and she bent in towards his face, dragging out every word. "You really want to know who told me? Think about who you told…….."

This hit Marikir harder than any physical blow.. Mirami! She was the only one he had told about his lack of balance with the heavy sword. Who else could have known? It had to be her! It couldn't be anyone else…but why? Why would she…he got to his feet, and bowed his head. "You win…I forfeit. I have no further reason to fight."

Titani mocked him with more taunting words and laughter than she had ever used before. He dejectedly dragged his sword off the field, ignoring the cat calls and boos that surrounded him on all sides. He no longer cared about any of it…Mirami had betrayed him. That stunning certainty was all he needed to know.


	3. Secrets of the Sand

_Another chapter to begin…hope you enjoy it. Major secrets revealed. I didn't like writing this chapter very much. I guess I found it boring or something. But it had to be done._

Chapter 3

(Secrets of the Sand)

For days and days on end, Marikir sulked inside his pitiful excuse for a house. How could she do this to him? How could she betray him…how? He had trusted Mirami…he wanted to win to meet the princess…now he would never meet her. He grumbled to himself, never going out unless he was called.

Lately, however, the queen seemed to be calling him more and more often. The strange part was she never seemed to want anything. She would be alone most of the time, or with Titani. She would have him come closer, and sometimes she would touch his chest lightly.

She would whisper things, so quietly he could hardly hear her. He could see a look in her eyes, it had changed. She was not as gentle, her spark evidenced greed. Greed for what? He felt uncomfortable around her, cold and nervous. Her touch was sensitive, yet longing, as if she was grasping for something she could not yet reach…

"Mark? Are you in here?" It was a voice he knew all too well, followed by a flapping sound as his door was opened.

"Speak of the devil. I was just thinking about you." He showed no tone of friendliness whatsoever. "Go away. I do _not_ want to speak with you." His life had shifted from one of love and caring to one of deception and disgrace…

Mirami hesitantly reached for his shoulder. "I'm sorry you lost, Mark…"

He viciously whirled around, tipping the chair over and glowering at her. "No, you're not! You never wanted me to win at all! You told everyone all about my weak point, didn't you? That's why it was so hard for me to win! I could have won!" he shouted. "I could have! But then you had to go and stop me, didn't you?"

Mirami held her breath for a moment. So he knew. Well, there was no stopping that secret now…but was the other? "Mark? I'm sorry…I really am. I couldn't let you win…"

"Couldn't let me win? Oh, I see! You were afraid that I would fall for the princess, weren't you? You were afraid I'd fall in love with her!" He turned away from her. "Go…and don't call me Mark…my name is Dorf."

Mirami wanted to explain, she wanted to tell him everything. Instead, she turned and left. She trudged back to the throne room, where she was most needed. "That's exactly right, Mark…" she whispered. "I am afraid you'll fall in love with her…" Her eyes turned to her reflection in a mirror, as crystal clear as sparkling water. "She's already fallen in love with you."

"Titani!" she heard the queen bark out an order to her first in command. "Go and get Dorf…tonight…drug him and bring him before me. We must preserve our race…" she chuckled, tapping her hand impatiently against her throne as she primed herself.

Mirami took a few moments to survey her room, her personal belongings, everything she held dear. She would not see them again for a long time. She had made her decision, she had to help Mark. Whether he wanted it or not, she was going to save his life…again. She took a small pack and stowed it full of necessities, such as a canteen of water and a few morsels of food. She had no room for pretty things…she sadly removed her extra jewelry and rich clothing. Silently, Mirami said good-bye to all she had ever known. How it pained her…she sneaked past the guards, slipping into Marikir's house in the dead of night.

"Wha…Mirami?" Marikir slowly got up and stretched, scratching his head in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up and stay down!" she hissed, tossing him a cloak and satin covering. "Here, put this on. Veil your face, and you may live."

Marikir had never heard such a vicious, serious tone from his friend. Though he was still bitter towards her, he obeyed, suddenly realizing that he looked like a husky, muscled woman. "Mirami? What the hell are you doing?" He was now angry and confused, the latter stronger. Now she was going to embarrass him by making him dress like a woman?

She did not answer, but covered his mouth. She could hear them already coming. Flashing her eyes every which way, she ignored Mark's muffled protests, and pushed him up through the roof, through the straw which provided shade. She took close notice of the fact that he had stopped his resistance and was now relinquishing. "Come on…stay silent and keep close. I'll explain it all later."

Marikir did not need to tell her he understood…he simply did as she asked. Mirami led her past his boundaries, past the training grounds…where was she taking him? His eyes widened as the pieces begin to fit into place. At the sight of the iron gate, he knew it was true. This was the entrance to the desert, the entrance through which he had first been brought. If he were caught here, he would certainly be killed...in the most painful way he could think of. She was leading him somewhere…but where?

"Who goes there?" He saw a female figure lean over from the top of the twin towers, and squint towards Mirami.

"I do. Mirami…I'm leading a new priestess for her first journey of the awakening…the queen's orders." She placed her hands on her hips. "Open the gate."

The woman took a moment to reply. "You there, priestess, state your name…and then tell me your purpose after the first journey…"

Mark felt a rough jab in his ribs as Mirami shoved her elbow into his stomach. Marikir cleared his throat, concentrating on trying to make his voice sound as high as possible. "I am called Rikiram…my purpose after the first journey is to remain there…"

Though he didn't sound very convincing to Mirami, he must have at least sounded part-way convincing to the guard, because she nodded and tapped her staff, cranking the gate wide open. "Very good, Rikiram…I wish you the best of luck."

Mirami was quick to yank Mark to her side, holding him close. "Stay to my side…shield your eyes, and don't breathe the sand in…"

It took a few hours, but Mirami finally arrived at her destination. She led him through the sandstorm brewing throughout the desert, and continued on through the end of the whirlwind. A large, ominous form began to take shape, and Mark stumbled blindly towards it. Mirami followed, only relaxing once they took shelter inside. After a moment, She strayed back outside, dissipating in the darkness…

Mark brushed the sandy grit from his eyes and surveyed the new hope. It was a large stone building, which contained a thick solemn arua within it. He had forgotten about Mirami for the moment. His heavy footsteps carried him up five stairs, to what seemed to be the main floor. Surrounding the hall were two large snake sculptures, each towering over him like he was an insignificant ant. That was understandable. Serpents were a large part of the Gerodu decorating decorum. Who knew why…to his right, a small hole pierced the tight stone. The sound of something clashing could be heard within, but Mark tried not to focus on that. Only a child would be able to squeeze through the hole, Mark could only fit a leg through. On the left was a huge block with a "C" on it, something he could not lift if he tried.

"I think we're safe…" Mirami panted, waving her ponytail in the air and flinging dirt in all directions. "For now, anyway. They won't think to look here…at least for a few days."

"So…what was all that about, anyway? And where are we?" Marikir glanced towards her, and then back at the huge room.

"I suppose…I guess you might as well know." Mirami quietly strolled up beside him, sitting crosslegged on the plush red carpet that vividly set off apart from the cold brown stone. "Your queen…she must have been acting strange lately…the truth is…the only reason we want men is to re-populate our race…then we dispose of them…think of it this way. You're a pig that was being fattened, and you were about to be slaughtered. I saved your life. We're inside the most sacred place of the Gerodu…the Spirit Temple."

Mark shed his woman's clothing, to wear his regular attire. "That's what you were always hiding from me when I surprised you…You mean…the only reason she wanted me…was for sex?"

Mirami flushed and looked uncomfortable. "To put it bluntly…yes." She tried to drop the subject. "This…is the Spirit Temple. Our safeguard against evil. We should stay here, they won't be able to find us for weeks if we go inside…" She leaned down to her small backpack and flipped the cover open. "These…these are the treasures of our race. They were to go to the winner of the fight…I think they belong to you. There is an upgrade but they are hidden inside the Temple and even I don't know where they are."

"But…but I didn't win the fight and if you…you saved my life didn't you?"

Mirami smiled, and looked towards the ground. "I'd say you did win…and forget about it. I guess I have a soft spot for you, Mark." She reached into the pack and heaved out a pair of gloves, grunting in effort as she let them clang to the ground with a thud.

Mark had never seen anything like these gloves. As they hit the stone, they glimmered like the sun. "What are those…and…but isn't the princess supposed to give the treasure to the winner…I mean, I just wish I could have met her."

Mirami sat down on the stair and placed her chin on her hands. "You already have." Mark's brow furrowed in puzzlement. Then, as he stared into her eyes, realization and shock slowly filled his own. The idea was so absurd, he knew it had to be true. She nodded gently, realizing the truth had finally dawned upon him. "Mark, I _am_ the princess…princess Mirami. That's why you didn't see me at the competition…I was afraid of having you find out. I thought…you might be angry."

Mark placed his hand on top of hers, uncertain of what to say. "I never knew that, Mirami…I'm sorry for being such a jerk. I…I want you to be safe from harm. I hope you're not putting yourself under any danger by doing this…but what are these gloves anyway?" He tried to pick them up, but they were much too heavy. He only succeeded in struggling.

"There are many legends about them, but there is only one we trust." Mirami treaded over to the wall and placed a hand on it, following some foreign signs and pictures as she spoke. "The treasures you now hold are the silver gauntlets. The upgrades are called the gold gauntlets…they are hidden within the temple. The legend says that a hero will arise from the land and help us, taking the gauntlets in his own hands and using them for good. He will rescue the…the chosen one…she is called the goddess of the sand." She smiled at Mark. "We have to go further into the temple, in the morning. You must try to put them on, according to the legend, only a man can wear them and use their powers."

Mark clenched his hand into a fist and slowly slipped the unbearably heavy gauntlet over his fingers, struggling to lift it. He rested it on his knee, leaning back against the wall to take a short rest. "Good-night, Mirami. Tomorrow, I'll lead us through. Together…we'll figure something out."

"You mean…you're not mad that I tricked you?" she asked, surprised.

"Of course not…you're my only friend. I couldn't be mad at you."

"Your only…friend?" Mirami sounded a little disappointed, but she quickly disguised her tone into confusion.

Mark smirked, and gave her a playful wink. "More…maybe more…"

……………………………………………………………………………

It was hardly morning before Marikir awoke, allowing Mirami to sleep in while he took a look outside. It was very sunny as usual, but amazingly there were a few palm trees growing surrounding the temple. It was even bigger than he had judged from the large interiors. He wondered if the small inlet of water was just a mirage, a figment of his desires. He bent down; dipping a hand into the water, and it sank in. So…it really was water. Mark dunked his head into the pool, soaking his clothes thoroughly. It was entirely worth it. Before he had a chance to gain his bearings, he heard an echoing voice.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my domain?"

Mark was startled out of his wits. He fell over backwards, twisting every which way to try and catch a glimpse of who had spoken. "I'm…Marikir. Marikir Dragmire. I am here to find sanctuary."

The voice was garbled, as if under water. It seemed to flow together, like someone singing. "Welcome, Marikir Dragmire. If it is safety you are searching, you have found it. Come closer towards the water, and let me see you up close."

Mark was still very uneasy, but this did not sound like someone from whom you refused hospitality. He took a step or two closer, but continued to keep his distance. As if someone had pulled a plug, the water in the small pond began to sink down into a large hole. A shining azure light appeared in the ground, and Mark leaned over it, peering down. "Oh, very helpful…" he mumbled grumpily. "Now the water's gone." No sooner had he spoken than there was a sudden ground-shaking rumble, and he clumsily fell forward, plummeting into the unknown darkness of the hole.

"That's better…now come here…"

He stretched a hand out, partly panicked. He was floating down, as easily as if it were a rope were tied around his waist. His feet clattered to the ground, which seemed to be a pearly white gravel. His eyes settled on the only thing he could focus on…her.

She was almost naked, clothed in a few pieces of leaf-like vines, and with two large boots. Her hair was a deep blue color, twisted into three different braids. She floated in the air, her legs crossed and her arms resting on her knees. She cocked her head towards him, a look of remorse on her face. "Oh no. I thought you might have been the one…I suppose not. Though you look a lot like him…it must not be the correct time yet. I had been preparing for so long…"

"P-Pardon?" Mark asked, looking at himself. What was she looking for? Who was she? "Miss…who are you…and what are you?"

To his surprise, she laughed. A rich, uplifting sound, it gave him a good feeling. "Marikir Dragmire, I am the great fairy of wisdom…not Nayru herself, of course. I'm what you may call an understudy." She crossed her arms, still smiling. "Like it or not, you've found me. So, I must give you something…" She floated down towards the ground, barely alighting on the cold stone. "You're not the chosen hero, Mark…but I sense you will have a great deal to do with the upcoming war. You are special…" She extended her arms, revealing a small package. "Here you are." She handed it to him, turning back towards what Mark could now see was a large fountain. "Contained in this is something to help you… a cape with powerful tendencies, and…use this." She raised her arms, calling something unknown, until another item obediently levitated down from out of nowhere.

"Wow…" Mark was overwhelmed by the sudden expense of gifts. "Thank you, great fairy." He ran a hand over the cloak she had given him. It was a crimson red color, just like fresh blood. It felt like the feathers of a swan, soft, yet as tough as concrete. "This…this cloak makes me feel…powerful."

Her smiled faded as she gave him the last present. "Marikir…do not give up. Where evil seems to prevail, always there is something good within. I sense you will soon be tested. When the time comes, remember, there is always good within you…" She pointed to the gift, which turned out to be a completely clear crystal, a dull azure shine within it. "That is Nayru's love. It will protect you from many dangers. Be aware, Marikir…if you are killed, or if you stop fighting for the force of right…the crystal will sense your ambitions and will no longer work. It will instead return to me."

Marikir was silent for a while. What did she mean evil prevails? He couldn't ever give in to evil…sure, he had stolen every once in a while. But that didn't mean he was a hopeless demon…he bowed to her, and gave her a parting wave. "Don't worry, I'll fight against the evil." Before she could speak again, he was gone.

It took a while to explain everything that happened to Mirami, but she eventually accepted it. She was very shocked, however. She had always been told stories about the great fairy of wisdom, but she had never actually seen her. She was a bit jealous. Mark was just disappointed. He was happy enough about the gifts, but all that talk about evil made him attentive and nervous.

By the time they were both calm and ready to enter the temple it was nearly night. Mirami decided they would try to enter tomorrow, after all…Mark needed to think that evil business over…


	4. Through the Temple

_Another Update. Hope you enjoy. I changed my mind a bit about the previous plot. There are many, many hints at future events that will happen in this story, try to spot some. _

Chapter 4

(Through the Temple)

"Argh! Ah!" Struggling to lift the huge block, Marikir again failed. He tensed every muscle in his body, the pulse of his heart thudding uncontrollably in his head. "It's no use…" He flopped into a sitting position. "I can't lift it."

Mirami sighed and looked away, plopping herself beside him. "Mark…you can do it, I know you can…Marikir Dragmire, you have power beyond what I have ever seen. That is a good sign among our people. You have the silver gauntlets, those will work for now. We must get through…or our fate is inevitable."

A sudden clattering noise reached Marikir's ears. "Did you hear that?" He rocketed to his feet, tilting his head to hear better.

"Hear what?" Mirami asked, startled.

"Sh!" Marikir held a hand up for silence, listening intently. A second clatter was heard, and voices began to emerge into the mystic temple's silence from just outside the temple. Signaling to Mirami that he was going to go see what it was, he carefully treaded towards the open door, inching his way around the stone.

He halted just before the outside light reached his toes, crouching low as he was taught during his captivity. He leaned forward just a little, to catch a glimpse of who it was. His breath caught itself in his throat; he felt a nauseating pit in his stomach twist. It was an army…not just any army…the royal family's army.

There, at the front of the battalion…it was him. It was that knight that killed Marikir's father. He still looked as young as he did those years ago. Marikir gritted his teeth together as a sudden burning hate sprung into his heart. As he felt the bitter taste of a need for revenge filling him, he glanced down and gasped. The crystal he had been given…it had become less bright…but why? Of course…silently, he struggled to end the anger. At least for now. He continued to eavesdrop, listening in on the knight.

"Alright men!" The armor-clad blonde shouted, a strict determination in his voice. "Let's go to it! The king has given orders for us to find these 'silver and gold gauntlets' and to take them. No matter what is contained inside this temple, we must bring these treasures to the king." He vaulted off of his copper mare, giving her a quick pat. "There, there, girl…you'll be back home at Lon Lon in no time." Following his example, the company of men shifted off of their rides to get behind him. "Let us go…for queen and country!"

"No…" A sudden voice exclaimed, and a woman showed herself, followed by gasps and murmurs in the crowd of men. "For the triforce."

The blonde seemed startled for a moment. "Why are you here?" A wistful smile appeared on his face. "What I wouldn't have given to stay where you have been able to stay. Why do you choose to follow, even when danger is imminent?"

Even though the woman was young, her eyes displayed a fervent wisdom. She was clad in armor like the others, but hers was spackled in designs of the ancient race, the Sheikah. Unlike her ancestors, her eyes were a brilliant blue, complimented by her light silvery hair. "I follow where I am needed, Sir Eluryh."

"You have a strong soul that I will never know, Impa." He showed a slight smile. "So, we go on. In the name of the triforce."

Marikir did not need to hear anymore. If he was found, he and Mirami would most certainly be taken to be questioned, and the silver gauntlets taken. He couldn't let them do that. Not after Mirami had so willingly given them up for his care. Sprinting back to her with the flight of a deer, he summoned all his strength. "Din…give me the power I need to protect her…" He silently prayed. Even though he tried to hide it, to ignore it, Marikir had committed the worst sin among any in the Gerudo race. He had fallen in love.

He shifted his hands under the large stone column, heaving so hard that he thought his heart would burst. A sudden inspiration occurred to him. If he couldn't lift it…maybe he could push it. Throwing his weight into the stone block, he grunted, rejoicing silently as the block slid inch by inch further and further into the temple. Suddenly, with a loud thump, the block fell into a hole. Mirami stepped over the gap, whispering to Marikir.

"If we don't want them to follow, we have to replace the block!" she hissed softly.

Marikir wiped some sweat off of his brow, calling upon a reserve of strength he didn't know he had. Lifting it with everything he had, he pushed it forward, falling to his knees in his temporary weakened state. "I…I need to rest…"

On the other side, the soldiers for the king were exploring, it was not long before one found the stone blocking the path. Leaning into it, murmurs could be heard. Calling to his captain, they began to try and move the stone, but to no avail. It was far too heavy.

"There must be some other way…" the knight thought, sweat droplets studding his brow at his repeated efforts. "We don't have time to wait." Just then, he glanced upwards to see a cloaked figure making its way towards him. He unsheathed his sword and shield, gesturing towards the unknown source. "Are you a friend or foe?"

The two thieves allowed themselves a short rest, and Mirami scooted closer to the resting Marikir. "You did great…but what's wrong?"

He looked towards the stone with a pure hatred on his features, a flame in his eyes of anger she had never seen. "I don't want to talk about it."

Mirami pursed her lips as she stared at him. "Okay…if you say so." She leaned against his chest. "I can't go back…to my family."

"Why not?" Marikir enjoyed feeling the warmth of her body, but he didn't allow her to see that.

"I would be killed for helping you…I couldn't…couldn't let them do anything to you, Mark. I'm sorry for deceiving you. It's only going to be more difficult…if we make our way through the temple, we can reach an entrance over the roof. I know the way through the desert, we can sneak out into Hyrule, you can live your life to the fullest…"

"With you?" Marikir clasped a hand around hers, squeezing gently. "I won't go without you."

Mirami sighed pleasantly. "I'll come too…the both of us. For now, though, we must keep onward…it will not be easy." How naive he was…

Marikir stood to his feet, fastening the cloak given to him by the fairy over his neck. "We have to make it through…" Mirami seemed to know her way around, as if she had been there before. When he suggested this, she shrugged it off, saying that Gerudo's had always been somewhat proficient in knowing their way around. She knew the identity of every enemy they encountered.

Marikir longed to defeat them, to make them disappear. However, Mirami did not allow it. She said they were guardians of the temple, that Mark could not disturb the power of the goddesses. Stubbornly, he succeeded in killing a fire bat on the way up to the roof by smothering it. Strangely, his cape did not catch on fire. As he lifted it, the bat was dead. It was easier than Mirami let on, but it took a few days. There was one room that was especially interesting for Marikir. A large stone sculpture of a woman towered over him, her lifeless eyes staring straight ahead, as if anticipating something that would not happen for a long time.

He turned and looked back at where her eyes were positioned. Strange. As they neared the top of the last staircase, Marikir spoke his thoughts out loud. "Do you think anyone will come here during next fifty years?"

"What makes you say that?" Mirami asked in puzzlement.

"I don't know. Suddenly I feel like I don't want anything to happen…I don't want to escape. I have a bad feeling."

Mirami laughed lightly. "Is that all?"

"I'm afraid for you. What if I can't be there? What if…what if I become evil?"

"You? You're already evil!" Mirami giggled, turning away, only to feel herself jerked back into his face. His eyes were sparking dangerously, displaying evidence that he was indeed very serious.

"I'm not playing, Mirami…what if I become evil…what if the fairy was right?" He looked into her eyes, fear showing on his features. "What…what if I hurt you?"

"Mark…you won't. You won't become evil. I love you…no one can break that. No matter what. Besides, you don't have any hate for anyone…right?" Marikir looked away, his spirit wavering. He remained silent. "Right?"

He raised a hand to touch her cheek, kissing her deeply for a moment. "If anything happens to me…know…just know I love you. Always."

Mirami tilted her head slowly, as if contemplating the thought. "But…I…I don't understand. There is no possible way we could ever be apart. Don't…scare me like that. You're what I've been looking for all my life. I knew it from the first time I saw you. It's…hard to believe, I know. But I felt so alone…and then you showed up."

Marikir tried to give her a smile, but all he managed was a worried frown. "I know." He gripped her hand tightly for a moment. "I know…"

A few more days passed, and Marikir found himself nearing the famed exit. Mirami knew he was excited as she was, but she was slightly worried. Something was not right. Soon, she was climbing the final stair, but the instant she reached the top, she froze.

Marikir stood beside her, and then halted in his tracks. Below, staring straight at him, was the army. They had beaten him to the exit and were waiting for him. In that instant, the blonde knight looked right into his eyes. Marikir felt a rage stronger than anything he had ever known. An overwhelming urge to kill the man arose in him. Sliding down the side of the sand dune closest to him, he met the opposition.

Mirami watched, trying to find a way out at the same time. They had beaten them here. Even through the temple, through it all. But…how? Only Gerudo knew the way through or around the temple…

The knight's first impulse was anger. "So…you show your face. Traitors."

"Traitors?" Marikir repeated, unsure of what he was talking about. "I don't have any idea what you mean…"

Slowly, the blonde heroic knight drew his sword. "Of course you don't. I'll protect the queen. I will protect her, whether you die or not."

Marikir took out the crystal, only to see it had grown a little dim…damn it all. Feelings of bitterness sprung into his heart like weeds, growing up through his lungs before snaking their way into his very mind. "I would rather die than see you live. I'll take you down with me."

He looked confused for a moment. "Why so vain to me? If you come quietly and give up the treasures, I'll let you go alive."

Marikir's mouth curled upward into a snarl. "Try and take them from me."


	5. The Final Battle

_I was expecting myself to write more vividly and more detailed on the fight, but I didn't want Marikir to…bah. Too much information. Enjoy. _

Chapter 5

(The Final Battle)

Marikir bravely faced the man opposing him. He tensed every position in his body, preparing for what he felt might be his final battle. This knight would not be easy to beat, by any means. There was a certain glow, a sense of confidence in those sapphire eyes that made him…cower. All the power he felt he had…it was all gone when he stared into that man's stare.

"Your last chance." The knight fluently waved his sword, a beautiful weapon. It was not nearly as large as Marikir's, but the thief had left his at his old home. With a strong sweeping motion, the knight charged for Marikir.

Out of pure instinct, he dodged, feeling a sharp pain as the steel sliced through his shoulder. "I won't…you hurt me more than any other…I'll kill you!"

The knight watched in shock as his sword was grabbed. "I can't allow that!" he cried in defense, sliding his blade in a rapid slash out of his opponent's grip, watching the steady flow of blood gush out of the wound created. "I have someone to protect."

Marikir stopped for a split second, unknowing if it was because of the unbearable pain or because of the sudden exclamation. "You have someone to protect?" he hissed through clenched teeth. With a low chuckle, he took out his only defense, Nayru's love. "What about my father? Did you protect him?"

The knight watched in blatant dismay. What did he mean about a father? He could not remember that this was the same little boy whom he had watched run away from his dead father in the first war. "What do you mean?"

"It doesn't matter now! Nothing matters! I'll defend his honor…even if it means to take all of you with me!" He squeezed the crystal, expecting an Armageddon of sorts to explode in a magnificent attack. All the company shielded themselves, taking cover from whatever was going to erupt from the weapon.

After a few moments of silence, the blonde knight blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Is something supposed to happen?" he asked sarcastically, beginning to charge for the second time.

"Stop! Leave him alone!" Mirami followed Mark's example and slid down a nearby dune, extending a hand towards the man she loved. "Take me instead! Just…don't hurt him."

As if considering the idea, the knight approached her. "Men! Take her! I want her questioned!"

Just then, Marikir felt something spring up within him. As the soldiers took hold of the kicking, screaming girl, a rage he had never felt arose. A bitter anger, a sense of possession filled his soul. "Let…her…GO!" At the last word, he lifted the crystal, and there was a flash of sapphire-like light. All the company was blinded; the knight threw up his arms to protect his vision.

"Mirami! Run!" Marikir ordered, his body enveloped by the prism. He pushed past the knight, taking one last look before grabbing his loved one's hand and recklessly running into the desert.

"Do we follow, sir?" A soldier gestured to the pair of fugitives, also turning towards Impa, who stood nearby.

The knight had no wish to chase after the runaways through the brewing sandstorm. He glanced towards the temple a second time, a sense of uneasiness stirring within him. His keen eyes caught a glimpse of their guide, the cloak flowing out behind the figure. Thoughtfully, he began to stroke his forehead. Why did he have this fear of the man with that woman?

Impa followed her friend's gaze to the figure watching them. She hoisted herself upon her noble white steed, trotting up to her captain's side. "Do you trust it?" she asked.

Although he did not reply, his standing was known by the look on his face. He was silent, a hard glare in his eyes.

"Sir?" The soldier approached his authority, awaiting an order of any kind. "Do we follow?"

"We do not." The knight turned away, returning back towards Hyrule field, his home. Impa followed close beside him, summoning up the courage to talk.

"Why do we stand down?"

He turned to face the wise young woman, uncertainty in his eyes. "It is not time. This is not our battle. It will be waged…but not with me. I trust what the goddesses have planned out." He was referring to the hooded one, of course. "I do not trust our guide's words, but I have a feeling it is meant to be."

"You have a feeling that it is meant to be? Do you realize what you are saying?"

"Of course I do. I can't explain what it is…something about this whole thing. I don't understand what my heart is telling me, but I know enough to obey it. Everything depends on it…My life…and…Sarina's."

Impa started, having to catch up as he increased his trotting speed. "You mean…you have decided to finally…tell her?"

"Yes." A gentle smile alighted on his face as he shifted his gaze towards the ground. "I want to tell her how much I love her. Perhaps we shall marry…and even have a child." Impa almost questioned his decisions, but decided he knew what he was talking about. After all, his words were true.

"Mark! You're crazy! We'll never make it through this storm!" Mirami shouted, the sand filling every crevasse in her body, anywhere it could penetrate.

"Then we'll die together!" Marikir shouted over the roar of the wind, the whipping of the sand becoming more and more violent. "I can't let you go like this! I love you, Mirami!" He brought her behind him, so he blocked most of the wind's force.

"I know, Marikir!..." She tightly squeezed his hand. "I know."

The blue sheen of the crystal flashed a few times, enveloping the two in its protecting flash. Mark began to feel himself black out, but each time he was on the brink of it, Mirami would revive him from the depths of his insanity. He felt as if he was being ripped apart, limb from limb, the loss of blood making him woozy.

Just when it seemed they had lost all hope, Mirami pointed ahead. "Look! Oh, look, Mark! There it is! The ending point of the desert is there! We'll soon be free!"

"I'm…sorry…Mirami." His voice was a whispery rasp, as if the last of his air supply was being used. "I tried…"

She grabbed him as he fell to his knees, hoisting him onto her shoulders. Never had she carried anything even close to his weight. Maybe it was the passion of her love, or maybe it was something else. All she knew was she had gained a sudden strength beyond what she had ever known. Strength enough to carry him over the desert, never letting him go.

She passed what she used to know as her home, avoiding the guards and sentries. She was a bit curious as to why there were so few, they must have been out looking for them. Her heart leaped into her throat for joy when she saw the bridge that led to Hyrule.

The sun was beginning to fade, and it would mean fewer chances of being spotted. She inched forward, bit by bit, each few feet brought her closer to salvation. Soon, yes, soon she and Marikir would both be free. Free to be in each other's lives forever.

Unfortunately, this freedom would never come to pass. A hooded figure dropped in front of her, blocking the way to the future. "Who…who are you?" Mirami stooped down, setting her loved one gently against the stone, dressing his wounds as best she could as she waited for an answer. Secretly, she began to fiddle with her scimitar.

"I thought he took care of you both. Why are you still alive?" The hooded one took a step closer.

Mirami drew her weapon, shamefully. She could have used this to protect Mark when he needed her most. Angrily, she stepped in front of him. "Who took care of us? Wait…I know that voice."

"Of course…who else could it be, little princess?" Throwing off the hood, the cocky face of Titani glimmered in the setting sun. "I took great trouble to lie to that knight and his company, leading them to cut you off! Look what I get for my trouble! Here you stand, not dead at all! What a pathetic waste. I suppose if I want something done right, I have to do it myself."

"So it was you! I knew only a Gerudo could have led them! Why, Titani? Just let me leave, and you can rule the kingdom!" Mirami drew her weapon, her eyes becoming slits.

"You think that's what this is all about? Oh no, little princess. This is much more involved now. That would be much too easy. I must have my revenge. I can almost taste it." As the words left her mouth, she licked her lips, anticipating the sweet scent of freshly split blood.

"You're crazy, Titani! Now let me pass and the kingdom is yours!"

"Never…never!" The crazed woman came flying at the younger warrior, her twin blades glinting the reflection of the reddening sunset.

Mirami held her one curved sword up to block, but the pressure of the combined weight and gravity of her enemy worked against her. A quick nick cut its way into her hand. Suffocating a squeal of pain, she stumbled backwards.

"What a sad excuse for one of us." Titani clicked her tongue, waving a finger at the wounded girl with a wink. "Too bad you won't live long enough to cry for your mother. She'll never believe you…I'll destroy you, and then I'll be the princess, no, queen!" An insane laugh gripped its hold over the woman; she raised her hands into the air like a maniac.

"No! You won't!" Mirami kicked herself to her feet, sprinting full speed at her opponent. Twirling at the last moment, she impacted her enemy in a full-blow kick. "You won't hurt anyone anymore!"

The seemingly possessed Gerudo winced as she was knocked to the ground. "Agh…little princess…you are different…harder than I thought."

Mirami blinked, suddenly her breath caught in her throat. She heard the rapid hoofbeats approaching. "You…you tricked me!" She pointed an accusing finger towards her beaten opponent. She could already tell her mother, the queen, was at the head of the small army, approaching quickly. Titani would not be able to kill her now…but then why…why did she want this?

"No, little princess…Mirami." The woman rose to her feet, crouching in the trademark attack position. Her knees bent and she prepared for her trademark attack. Stunned slightly, she smirked at the princess's refusal to attempt to defend herself. "You tricked yourself."

_This goes a little deep, the last statement. Think about it. This is going to turn out as a shorter story than I thought. I'm thinking two, maybe three more chapters. _


	6. My Last Request

_This chapter makes me very emotional. There will be extreme angst/sadness moments…here we go. Definitely a teen rating because of the intimate scene._

Chapter 6

(My last request)

The darkness seeped in through the few cracks of the bars in the dim prison. Shadows cast their way across his limp figure as guards fixedly passed the opening far above. He was vaguely aware of the fact that Mirami was gone, and had been gone for some time. He couldn't tell how long it had been, the hours had turned into days, the days into an eternity.

His scraps of food were given only when the guards remembered, if they did at all. Even the horses owned by the women ate better than he did. He no longer had the strength to crawl off the floor; all he could do was lie on the freezing stone and wait. His hollow, empty breathing came in short intervals. It was almost pathetic, the look of desperation in his eyes.

Titani had to admit, it made her a bit put-out to see him fall so easily. Although she felt a bit sorry for him, the satisfaction of his weak position overwhelmed the small pity in her heart easily. "You're such a sight, Marikir." The iron gate swung open with a loud shrill shriek. "Look at yourself."

"I'm what I am. You cannot take my joy away." He sounded almost satisfied, there was a tone of confidence that she had never heard. "It's the magic of love."

Titani paused, her witty remarks abandoning her completely. "It's too bad. You're scheduled to be put to death. I'm almost taking pleasure in it. I have to say…" She paused, her eyes taking a survey of the hall to make sure no one was coming. "I've never seen Mirami that happy before…"

"Of course you haven't. That's the trick of it. It's not that easy to find…love. It's something between just two people. It's a feeling that cannot fade, no matter how many years it takes with it." Marikir dragged his head to a straight position. His lip was crusted over with dry blood; a large bruise was covering his eye with a swollen shade of blue and indigo. "I…wanted to thank you, Titani. I've never thought about it. Thank you…" he whispered, a gracious smile on his chapped lips.

"Thank me?" she repeated in surprise. "For what?"

"Without you…I never would have gotten this close to Mirami."

Titani watched and stood solemn in thought. "I'm sorry about what must happen, but you've brought it upon yourself. I sensed when I saw you in the desert, wandering aimlessly….you were a unique man. I never forsaw this…this is something greater than the queen can control."

"Something greater…I've heard that so often." His once bright eyes had now become a glazed over tint. "So many people have told me, you're special Marikir, you're going to be a hero, you can change your future…you'll make my wishes come true…"

He raised his iron shackled hands to the ceiling, crying out with the desperation of a breaking heart. "Well, Mother! Is this was you wished for? IS it? Is…" He fell to the ground, his eyes squeezing out hot tears. "Is it…"

Titani paused before speaking again, closing the large prison door. She kicked something towards him; it was a stale piece of bread. "You will see her again. Before you die. I"ll make sure of it. Whether you care or not, I'll make sure…" she whispered. "I'll make sure..."

……………………………………………………………………………………

She brushed past her attendants, gazing out of her window. "But I need him, mother. You don't understand."

The queen's scrutinizing gaze pierced her daughter's innocent demeanor. "There will be many more men, Mirami. I will choose the one suitable for you. This is for your own good…he's too difficult to control."

It was many hours later, and Mirami was still wide awake. It was impossible to escape through her window, for the drop would surely kill her. There were always guards posted outside in the halls, she couldn't avoid them, either. Sadly, she let her head droop, trying to decide what to do. Perhaps her mother was right…tomorrow…Marikir would die…and she would no longer have to worry…but then why did her heart cry so?

There was a sudden knock on the door, and Titani stepped inside, instantly dodging the pillow that was flung at her. Mirami would have thrown something harder, but it was the only thing near to her hands. "Before you decide to kill me, if that's even conceivable, I came to ask…do you wish to see him again?"

Mirami blinked a few times. "What sort of trick is this, Titani?"

"Not a trick, little princess. Simply an offer, either you want to or not…will you continue to leave him be? His only desire is to see you again…"

Mirami turned away from her, hatred burning as she clenched her fists. "You're the one who told the queen to kill him…I heard you. Why the sudden effort for kindness?"

"Not kindness, Mirami." The older Gerudo crossed her arms and swallowed, coughing lightly. "Sympathy…when I was young…I knew love, too…and I know you want to see him again…" After silence on the princess's part, Titani stepped over toward the large decorated window, gazing at the desert, shadowed by the luminous moon. The silent night was still, nothing moved, nothing spoke, as if all were reverent to the fact of the dying love. "I've never seen this in years…"

"Seen…what?" Mirami ventured, allowing herself to unclench her fists and follow her elder's gaze.

"This rain in the desert…" Titani spoke in a whisper, harsh and raspy.

"Rain?" Mirami repeated, secretly wondering if Titani truly was insane. "There's no rain."

"Yes…there is. It's a rain of a love that's about lost…go see him, Mirami. I'll take you without trouble. Rain is pouring down like the heavens are crying…it seems like years since it began to thunder…but now, if you go to him, it just…may stop."

Mirami wasn't sure what to make of this analogy. Was it something meant to comfort her? It sure was not doing a good job; it only made her feel worse about her choice. "But…Titani…I feel…I've tried so hard to convince myself that he's gone…and though he's here…I've been alone…all my life. I need him, more than anything. I can't let him go…I just _can't_!" she exclaimed, falling to her knees, struggling to wipe the tears out of her face.

The elder bent down on one knee, taking the girl's face in her hand, hidden trickery sparkling behind her eyes. "Then go to him."

……………………………………………………………………………………….

The moment was magical. Though it was laced in an imminent sense of doom, there was an overwhelming aura of passion. Mirami made the first move as the time seemed to pause. She stepped forward, no thoughts of the gone Titani lingering in her mind. Her large compassionate orbs grazed his appearance, before she fell to her knees, hugging his chest to absorb his warmth. "Marikir…I'm so sorry…"

"Oh…Mirami…no." He wrapped his shackled arms about her slender form, pulling her into him. "I'd rather die…than live forever unknowing what I've felt…these past weeks…I just want you to know how much I love you."

She lifted a hand to gently caress his cheek, careful to be as light as a feather. She never wanted to hurt him. Seeing him like this, his bruised face, his cracked lips…"If I never knew you…I'd never know anything about this gift of life. You made me live, Marikir…and for that, I thank you…"

His fingers dug into her skin, and he gritted his teeth to keep himself from shedding tears, afraid that she may break down. "We'll always be together, Mirami…even though you won't see me…you'll feel my love. I'll be there…in you."

Mirami lifted her lips to his neck, affectionately nibbling her way up to his chin, pausing as she allowed her shoulder straps to fall down. "I need you by my side…can't you feel my heart beat…kiss me…Marikir…I love you."

Softly, he connected with her lips, pulling her into him as if he was afraid she was going to disappear in his touch. The heat of the two began to increase, and he leaned into her, placing himself on top of her and exhaling deeply as the kiss lingered, harder in every moment. He began to move his lips to her neck, stopping when he reached her chest.

Mirami took his rough hand, guiding it expertly to unfasten the scrap of clothing so she was half exposed. Letting it rest on her chest, she inhaled and held the breath, perspiration budding on her forehead. She felt his hand cup her breast, stroking it with a touch as tender as a mother holding a new baby. Still he continued to kiss her, easing her into a state of relaxation. She clutched his shoulders, pulling him closer, prepared to go all the way.

At this moment, when all seemed a world of bliss, the door swung wide open, the queen and Titani watching the two, one with an expression of shock, the other with a satisfied smirk. "Didn't I tell you he would ruin her, your majesty?" Titani barked; a hollow laugh in her voice.

"Mirami!" The queen instantly motioned for the guards to take her away, an order which they began to obey. "As punishment for this evil, wicked deed, you shall be the first and front when he is killed…"

Marikir broke the kiss, and leaned into her ear, his voice angelic. "My last request…grant it…"

"Anything…" Mirami felt time slow once more as the guards took hold of her arms, and she kissed him again, needing to feel the passion of their love.

"Keep living…" His let his kiss fade as the guards yanked Mirami to her feet, he took hold of her hand and held it to the last minute, her fingertips finally falling from his.

"I promise! I will! I love you!" she screamed, kicking and fighting as she was dragged out.

Titani cruelly smirked as she approached the fallen man. "What a foolish girl. Believing a little sappy talk."

"You…you!" Shouting explicit curses her way, filled with an anger he had kept locked away for so long, Marikir served her a sweep kick, making her fall to the ground, yet she scrambled to her feet, glowering as she exited the cell.

"I'll be glad to take your life tomorrow…" The last words Marikir would ever hear that night, for soon he fell into unconsciousness.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Everything was a blur to him the nest morning, he couldn't hear anything but the constant cheers and shouts of "Kill him!" and "Death!" He had to admit as he was yanked to his feet and led out into the hot white daylight, he was temporarily blinded. There was a large platform out in the middle of the fortress; it looked already prepared for him…

As he was forced to his knees to bend over the block of wood, the executioner began to throw the bag over his head. "No!" he shouted, struggling violently. "No!"

"Oh…are you sure, Dorf? You don't want anything to cover your shame?" Titani grinned, yanking his head up by his hair to stare straight ahead. "There she is…your lover. Now, she'll watch you die."

"I want to see her face. Before I die, I want to feel our love. That's something you will never kill, Titani…" As steady and calm as if he did this every day, he glared into her eyes. "Ever."

Her proud moment stolen from her, Titani threw the bag away, lowering the second block that kept him from moving at all. Below his neck she placed a basket to catch what would soon fall from his shoulders. "My queen? I am ready. Is it time?"

The thudding of the execution drums began to move his body with its strong thrum. A few of the desert women shouted out words in anger. "Deception!" one cried. "Disgrace!" Mirami pushed past the crowd of women, reaching out to him, missing his extended hand by inches as she was pulled back.

"Marikir!" she shrieked, tears streaking her face as she desperately tried to reach him.

"Mirami…." He felt the tip of the sharpened scimitar graze his neck; he could hear his heart pumping faster than he would ever know again. "Mirami! Don't forget your promise! Don't forget to live!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Continue with the execution! Kill him." The queen ordered, motioning for the blade to come down with full impact.

Mirami screamed, blindly running with all hope towards Marikir as she reached out for his hand, hardly touching his fingers. "No! Marikir! I love you! I'll live! Noooo!"

Her last cries of affection reached deaf ears, for the instant her fingertips connected with his, there was the slice of elimination, and her love was no more. Mirami fell to her knees, not daring to look. She felt the warm trickle of his blood run down her arm. Pained tears dripped down her cheeks, she stifled her choked sobs. "Marikir…I…love…you…"

_Aw…wasn't that emotional? I almost cried writing it. I thought it was good, anyway. I have soon sad news. I got into a bike accident because my brakes were not working and I literally tore some of the skin from my wrist. It still hurts. _


	7. The chosen one

_Well, let's finish it. You didn't think it ended with such a depressing time, did you? I hope not. Here's the real ending. For some reason, I was not feeling the words today. Forgive me if it sounds worse than usual._

(The chosen one awakens)

Sweat beads studded her dark skin; a shriek of pain echoed throughout the birthing chamber. "Agh…Din…help me…"

"Sh!" Titani commanded, taking a look at the progress. "You're doing well, the head is visible. Keep pushing and you will bring another Gerudo into the world." She turned to the queen, whom was grasping her daughter's hand for provided support.

"I do not…need your help, Titani." Even through all these years, Mirami retained her spite towards the woman. "I don't need it…" Before she could continue, a contraction seized her, and she cried in dismay.

"Your…your highness? I found out why Herishu was not here…to witness his daughter's birth…" A sentry hesitantly approached the tender situation.

"Yes, and why?" The queen barked, she was annoyed that her daughter was not progressing faster. It had taken her years to find another man worthy of her daughter's seed, and when she did, it had meant waiting for months until the pregnancy began to form.

"He is dead."

The queen straightened, and looked towards the nervous guard. "You're sure? How?"

"There was…a knife in his back. It seems he killed himself…"

The queen turned to face her daughter, who bit her lip as yet another sharp contraction took hold of her body. "Yes…he killed himself…or was killed."

"I did not love him…" Mirami admitted in a strangled gasp, gripping the sides of the stone bed as she gave the final push.

Titani slowly cupped a towel over the baby as a squalling racket filled the whole room. "I…I don't believe it…" She offered the infant to Mirami, who gladly took her baby…her baby boy. "It's the prophecy…the male."

"Male?" The queen repeated, as shocked as all the rest near the room. Whispers began to fly from one ear to another; she blinked back a few tears. "You have given birth to the future king of the Gerudo…" She surveyed the small babe.

He was strong, even she could tell that. His fists were clenched together as he continued to wail, his skin was a deep olive color, contrasting the tuft of fiery hair that was evident on his forehead. "He is our heir…certainly you'll name him after your husband…Herishu Cortuen."

Mirami slowly shook her head, letting her head rest against the pillow in a deep, weak sigh. "No…" her voice was hardly audible, she was obviously dying… "I never had a husband…"

"My queen, she has lost too much blood. She will not survive." Titani stated, blinking in a serious manner. "We shall name the king after her husband."

"No…" Mirami felt her strength slipping away like a fall leaf on the breeze. "His name is Dragmire…."

The queen and Titani exchanged a look, one knowing, and the other unsure. "Dragmire?" the queen asked.

"Yes…" Mirami softly smiled, her gentle eyes numbing down. "His name is…Dragmire."

"You would name your son after Dorf?" Titani hissed; her eyes aflame. "That pitiful slave?" Even through the years, she had not forgotten…Titani was surprised, but she was also very angry.

"Dorf…no…" Mirami repeated, turning to face Titani. "His name is Ganondorf….Ganondorf Dragmire…" She lifted his head to her lips, and implanted a loving kiss on her son's head. "He shall be known as the 'powerful weakling'…He will do great things, and he will be well-known. He will make his father proud…when he is old enough, give him Marikir's cape and sword…he will use them well, as…he did." With this final raspy request, she let her hand fall, slipping into the permanent sleep of death.

Her mother nodded in regret, turning to Titani. "It will be as she has said. Ganondorf Dragmire will be the king, and he will be taught our ways…but he must never know. Never reveal to him who his father was…that he was…a Hylian."

"It shall be as you have said, my queen…" Titani stated, jealousy re-entering her heart. She had never known, and would never know, the love that Mirami and Marikir had shared. One day, though she didn't realize it, she would be destroyed by the heir of Marikir, and experience the same treachery she had inflicted on others. Even then, she showed a look of distaste…for she knew they were sharing it now.


End file.
